The Evil & Calculating Genius that is Draco Malfoy
by Naesy
Summary: A fun little sequel to 'The things you learn' and 'The Pigtails Maketh the Man'. Draco & Harry may be together now but Draco is still an Evil Genius & there's NO refuting it! Warning: Refuting of DM's Evil Geniusness may ensue.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: It probably is best that you read the pre-stories to this ("The things you learn" & "The Pigtails Maketh the Man") to ensure you fully appreciate the story and relationship between the two main characters.

**The evil and calculating genius that is Draco Malfoy**

No one would have been surprised that Harry Potter went only twenty-four hours as Draco Malfoy's new boyfriend before he heard the inevitable words from the determined blonde: "You _owe _me a fucking Quidditch game Harry Potter!"

Okay. No one – with the exception of Draco Malfoy, that is. Because, right now, Draco Malfoy was painfully embarrassed beyond all belief that it had – _fucking_ _sweet Merlin!_ - taken him _so bleeding long._

Draco Malfoy's competitiveness was such that it would have to take (And in this case actually _did _take) some seriously good kissing (Well, Potter wasn't too shabby) and some seriously good sex (Oh _Merlin! _Okay...fine...it had been good. Alright, it had been _fucking brilliant_…are you happy?) and some seriously good food (Of the finest quality, care of a cautious, eager to please Harry. _Heh heh_...) to make someone like Draco completely forget about a desperate need to beat someone's arse at catching a stupid bloody snitch!

For anyone else, Draco Malfoy may well have said, "Get your fucking broom - NOW!" as soon as the given adorer had confessed to lying to catch a bit of sweet _sweet_ Draco Malfoy eye-candy, before going on to declare their utter attraction and stupid soppy feelings for him.

But, as humiliating as it was to Draco….it took a whole day after such said declarations by one besotted Harry Potter for Draco to fully remember. To remember the all-too unforgettable problem: that Draco was a Malfoy and NEEDED TO WIN AT EVERYTHING SO BADLY THAT HIS LIFE DEPENDED ON IT

And, right now, beating the Golden Boy to the snitch was right up there with breathing air.

oooo

And so it was, on the morning of day two - of what Draco perceived to be the best period of Harry Potter's life - that Draco woke in Harry's bed with a start.

Draco suddenly found himself shivering in a cold sweat, the vision of a snitch clutched tightly in his shaking little hand still so vividly clear in his mind. He sat up slightly - his whole body was trembling, beads of sweat were lining his forehead - and…he knew what he had to do.

He rolled over towards the naked sleeping man beside him and _prodded_ him. "Harry…"

Nothing.

"Harry..." Plus another prod.

"Mmm…?"

"Harry…Wake up…"

"Snmff…."

Draco frowned. He prodded harder. And a few more times.

"Huh? Wha?"

"Harry!" he whispered loudly, "You owe me…a _fucking _Quidditch game!"

Silence.

"_Harry_!" Draco said even more loudly.

"Draco…? What…? It's _four_ in the morning…"

"So…?"

"Go back….t'sleep…" The brunette threw an arm over his own face and soon the heavy breathing of a deeply-sleeping man filled the room again.

Draco frowned.

And **_then_**...he eventually smiled, lying back and staring up at the ceiling, thinking of how impossibly amazing it would feel to get to the snitch first….before Harry Potter did.

It would be nothing short of….glorious.

He smirked devilishly to himself and raised his hands and placed them under his head. School was over. And Harry Potter didn't know how positively unforgiving on a Quidditch pitch the brilliant Draco Malfoy, as an adult, could be.

Soon, Harry would be the Golden Boy: No More. _Heh heh…_

oooo

_One hour later:_

Prod. Prod. PROD.

"Hmm…"

PROD!

"Draco?!"

"Are you awake yet?" Draco asked excitedly, hopeful that the last quite forceful prod had done the job good and proper.

"NO!"

"You sound like you are..." Draco said in a suspicious voice.

"I'm not! Right now I'm fast asleep - having an awful nightmare - that my new boyfriend is_ prodding me awake..._for some ridiculous reason like...playing bloody Quidditch – _at five in the morning."_

Silence.

"So, you're awake then?" Draco asked excitedly.

At that point, Harry rolled over and hid his head under the pillow.

Draco frowned again.

And **_then_**...with a smirk, he knew there was no way Potter was getting out of this come six o'clock this morning. Because Draco was ready to fucking-well prod until the cows came home. And he could arrange it so that no cows ever came within five miles of this place. Potter may have thought Draco was scheming and determined and dogged and brilliant at school (at least he _should_ have), but Potter hadn't seen _anything_ yet. Because that scheming-ness and determinedness and doggedness and brilliance had merely _multiplied_ - to astronomical proportions - since their childhood seeker days.

Right…?

But, with a slight sinking feeling, Draco knew he was – oh dear – perhaps, in a little bit of trouble here.

His stupid Harry-foggy mind of late was just not acceptable. In fact, Draco had to be seriously careful to not get too soft. Especially if it meant he didn't make Harry go head to head with him for that snitch.

For…wasn't it enough that Draco had graced Harry with his own presence?! There was NO WAY Draco would also let the Quidditch thing slide. No way!

He figured, in these circumstances, perhaps it was high time he reminded himself of a few things - to ensure Harry-foggy-mindedness and Threats of Softness – not to mention, Lack of Quidditch Show Down - did not become a serious problem for him.

He cast his mind back to something his father had shown him as a young child:

**The Key to Being an Evil, Calculating Genius according to the Malfoy Book of Sheer Brilliance: **

**1. Always remember that you are the most brilliant person in the world.**

Check. No problem there.

**2. When in doubt, see rule number 1.**

Check. No problem there.

**3. Always remember that there is nothing more important than being Evil and Calculating. Laughing like this helps you to remember this: Muhahahahahahaha. **

(Draco cleared his throat) "Muhahahahaha…" he whispered silently and sort of awkwardly. _Hhmm_…not as evil sounding as he would have liked, but it did make him feel a _little_ bit more wicked and, under the circumstances (Harry lying right next to him), he figured it would have to do.

**4. Ensure you win at everything. **

Well, that's what he was _trying_ to do. Good. That meant he was on track then.

**5. Always look for sources of power that you can use to your advantage. You are all-powerful and should therefore ensure you are always in charge.**

_Sources of power?!_ _Hhmm_…he'd have to think a bit more about this one.

Either way, Draco was most pleased with himself. For, perhaps the situation was not as bad as he had feared – and, any slight problem areas could certainly be rectified.

For, today he was determined to make Mr Harry Potter beg for mercy on the Quidditch pitch. Because Draco Malfoy was going to get to that fucking snitch first if it _killed him._

A positively wicked smirk engulfed Draco Malfoy's mouth. Harry Potter's almost-perfect snitch catching history…was as good as history.

Muhahahahahahaha.

That's better! _Much_ better. And, who cares if it wasn't out loud?!

oooo

A/N: There are many more chapters to come - I've written most of the whole story already, but I'm still not 100 percent satisfied with some parts of later chapters. So, tired of playing around with them, I thought I'd post Ch1 & 2 sooner rather than later :)

I've also finished a one-shot that comes after this present story - I'm all ready to post that one, but, _Doh! _- have to finish this one first, time-line wise...


	2. Chapter 2

oooo

"Quidditch? Now? Do we _have_ to?!" said a prodded-for-half-an-hour-straight Harry at six-thirty that morning.

"YES! _Merlin_…it's the least you could do after all those lies and tricks you spun just to _get me in to bed_. Honestly Harry. Now -come _on! _Are you _that_ scared of losing?!"

Harry grinned and kissed Draco's nose. "Well, you are definitely formidable competition – that's for sure. But I'm just kind of tired right now – you know, after all the '_getting you into bed'_…" Harry's eyes enlarged with amusement, "not to mention all the _PRODDING!! _So…I don't have a hell of a lot of energy. I might be unable to fly straight."

"Well, I have had just as much _energy-sapping_ myself after all of _YOUR getting me into bed_ - Merlin!" Draco snapped. "And, anyway - _I_ was the one doing the prodding, so _I_ wasn't exactly getting a lot of shut-eye myself while that was happening _either! _-So, don't complain to _me!"_

Harry snorted deliriously at that and promptly received another firm prod to shut him up.

"And, so," Draco continued, "given all of that…I think you could pretty much consider our energy levels _even_."

"Okay. Alright. Can't we at least, you know, pee, shower…eat…get dressed…that kind of thing…before playing?"

Draco sighed wearily. "Alright. _Just don't take too long!"_

oooo

Harry was munching on his cereal fifteen minutes later watching Draco fidget around the kitchen. "Come on Harry! How long does it take you to eat fucking cereal for Merlin's sake!"

A spoonful of cereal hovered in front of Harry's open mouth as Harry raised a curious eyebrow at the blonde. "I've only had one mouthful so far!"

"Well, how much do you need to eat to play fucking Quidditch Harry? Honestly! I was ready to beat you to the frigging snitch at _four_ this morning! _Without_ breakfast! Do you really need that much energy to feel like you can even compete properly against me?!"

"Actually, yes!" Harry said firmly. And then, shaking his head and scooping up spoonful number three, he said, "But _something _is telling me I'd better just cut my losses and play."

Draco grinned.

"And that _something _would be a demanding-"

Draco frowned.

"yet incredibly brilliant-"

Draco paused.

"and unbelievably gorgeous blonde-"

Draco's mouth fell open.

"-who is turning my world upside down." Harry whispered this last part with a smile and then plopped his spoon into his still full bowl of cereal, stood to his feet and walked towards the hallway.

_Stop it Draco! Just keep your mind on Quidditch._

"I'll just get changed and meet you outside," Harry called out behind him.

_Evil genius, evil genius…_

"Good!" Draco said, trying his hardest to concentrate on the need to remain calculating and cruel. "And don't think I'll go easy on you Harry fucking Potter! We've got a score to settle!"

Harry paused half-way down the hall and spun around, giving Draco an annoyingly gorgeous smile. "I _know_," Harry said with a sigh, titling his head at Draco while still smiling.

"And _no amount of smiling at me like that is going to make me forget it! _Merlin!"

Harry chuckled and disappeared into the bedroom.

oooo

Draco's stomach was whirling too much for food himself.

Truth be known, Draco was shit-scared that he would get completely _thrashed_ up there. It had been more than ten years since they had last slogged it out in the air. And since then, Harry Potter had become mighty fit. But, Draco was not born on a Quidditch pitch yesterday. _And_ he'd had a bit of practice recently…whereas the Lying Sap Who Lived had been too busy drooling over Draco from afar to get any proper, competitive practice in.

But, Merlin. He had to do this. Because he was a Malfoy and a good one at that too. And letting go of his competitive streak was like prying candy from a baby…or prying a glass of vintage Dom Pérignon from Draco's monkey-like grip…or prying candy from Draco's monkey grip for that matter as well.

So…he held onto the blissful thought of BEATING THE CRAP OUT OF HARRY POTTER ON THE QUIDDITCH PITCH…and the hope that the practice he'd gotten recently might just give him the edge he needed. Perhaps it might just be enough.

A/N: Oh, the suspense! Oh, the agony of it all!

Heh heh...you'll have to wait a wee little bit longer to find out just how the Quidditch game between The Evil Genius and The Lying Sap Who Lived goes.


	3. Chapter 3

oooo

Harry waltzed outside five minutes later with a much crappier broom than Draco had in his hand. YES!

And a much sleepier, more tired look about him. YES!

And a hopeless sappy smile for Draco. YES!

Harry Potter was: GOING DOWN….

Muhahahahahahahaha. Oh. OH! That was a _particularly_ good one! YES!

Draco mounted his broom with boosted confidence - from crappy Potter brooms to perfect evil laughs, everything was coming up DRACO!

Draco held the snitch in his hand and then looked at Harry with _deadly_ determined eyes. "Are you ready?"

Harry shrugged warmly. "Sure. Why not?"

Draco smirked excitedly and let go of the golden ball and-

He flew into the sky like the bolt of lightening he was! He whipped through the air like the snitch itself! And searched for the fast moving golden ball like a frigging honest to god bird of prey! And – oh, fuck…he wondered…just how far away was Harry?! And – shit…he couldn't deny the temptation to take a sneak peek, just a quick one, so he knew where he stood and-

"Harrrrry!"

Harry was zooming around in lazy circles behind Draco, staring right at Draco and wearing the stupidest grin on his face. "_What_ are you doing?! You're not even trying!"

"Can't!" he yelled out through the wind.

"What?!"

Harry stopped and Draco zoomed over to Harry's side on his broom, suspended mid-air. Harry shook his head, catching his breath. "I can't do this."

"What?! Why?! What's the problem?"

"You."

Draco's eyes enlarged. "Me?! _What?!"_

Harry titled his head to the side. "I can't follow the snitch," he panted, "not while you're flying in the air in front of me! I'm sorry. But all I can see is that blonde hair – it's just flailing in the wind….and…glowing in the sun…and, well, I suddenly don't give a crap about the stupid bloody snitch anymore!" Harry bit his lip sheepishly and smiled softly at Draco, his cheeks burning pink.

At that point Draco Malfoy may well have glowed like the fucking sun itself.

Harry Potter actually liked his hair THAT MUCH?! Holy…

So much so that he couldn't even CHASE THE SNITCH?! Good lord…

"Really?" Draco blinked.

"Yes." Harry then shook his head, his face rich with embarrassment. "It's no good. When I can see you flying, well…I'm as good as err…putty in your hands."

_What?! Putty? _

_Holy shit…_

_PUTTY!! _

_Heh heh…_

An evil thought entered Draco Malfoy's calculating brain.

"Well, fucking _hell_ Harry. That is: Just Great! Fuck….This Quidditch game is as good as _over!_ Completely _ruined!_ Bloody hell…" said Draco heatedly, pleased with his 'impeccable' little acting performance.

Had Hogwart's offered Speech and Drama, Draco Malfoy should perhaps have considered taking that class.

"I'm really sorry…" said Harry with unbridled sincerity.

Sorry?!

Muhahahahahahaha.

"Yes well…" frowned the angry Academy Award winning wizard, crossing his arms for added effect.

And **_then_**…Draco continued, ever so _nonchalantly_, "Anyway. You just go ahead and do what you like Harry. I might just….fly around for a bit then," he purposefully swept some blonde hair off his forehead and then ran a hand through his slightly tangled locks, "and try to catch that snitch, you know, on my own. Make sure we get it back in its leather case and all. Wow. It _is_ windy today…my hair's all messy…" He flicked his head once more once on his broom and turned Harry's way.

Harry's jaw was dropped. His eyes were glazed over…

His gaze was fixed on Draco's blonde hair…

Muhahahahahahaha-Ha-HA!

Harry Potter _was_ GOING DOWN. Care of one gorgeous blonde, Mr Draco Mafloy…

oooo

Half an hour later, two very satisfied and naked young men lay in bed together.

One Draco Malfoy congratulated himself on not only being the putty-maker, with the amazing hair, but the _abuser_ of the privilege.

Muhahahahahahaha.

Honestly. Potter was such a sap. So easy to manipulate and twist around in the palm of his hand. Whereas Draco Malfoy was the man with all the power. All at his disposal…and so _accessible_ – what with it being on his head and all! Ready to use whenever he wanted to…

Muhahahahahahaha.

Blonde hair that was of THE GODS. And _he_ had it. Loads of it. Right. There. Heh heh…

He smirked an evil little smirk and delighted in, as it turns out, just how fucking brilliant and cold and calculating and evil _he actually was!_ Generations of Malfoy's _would_ be proud.

And_ **then**_…he squished his little button nose against Harry's, rubbing it from side to side because Harry's nose was so squishy and button-like too…and then he planted a soft kiss on the very tip of Harry's nose…followed by just another one…and then one to the side…right there…yeah, on that very soft spot of skin…and a few feathery kisses right there too…oh…OH…now, _that_ was a divine place to run his lips across…not to mention there…Oh…

Harry chuckled and squeezed him more tightly into his arms.

"So you like my hair?" Draco said, all but rubbing his blonde head into Harry's face and against Harry's lips.

Muhahahahahahaha.

"Like it?" Anyone else would have wondered how Harry had managed to actually speak with a headful of Draco hair practically shoved right into his mouth. "Draco. I _fucking_ love it. God. It's the softest…silkiest thing I've ever touched. You have _no idea_ how long I've wanted to just…feel it."

_Oh…_

Draco's heart expanded and constricted all at once.

"Well…" he asked, toying with the sheet, "What else do you like about me?"

Harry sighed, "Your skin is incredible…it's all milky…and soft…and just so touchable…"

Draco's lungs stopped working for a moment.

But then he had on overwhelming desire to hear: More. _More!_

"Go on," he said tentatively.

Harry grinned. "And your eyes…they are the most amazing colour I've ever seen…kind of like a mixture of a grey wintry sky or a low rain cloud but with a hint of that light, light blue colour the sky sometimes takes on, when its _really_ early in the morning- like a bit after dawn…"

_Eeeep!_

"Oh…" Draco said in a small very un-Malfoyish voice.

Suddenly Draco felt as good as putty lying against the dark-haired wizard.

oooo

An hour later, Draco woke and unwillingly detached himself from Harry's side to go and indulge in a luxurious spa bath.

Some minutes later, he lay in the warm water, surrounded by towers of bubbles, and smiled softly to himself – still unbelievably elated by his brilliant manoeuvring of the situation with Harry.

And **_then_**…the evil calculating genius that is Draco Malfoy realised: they never really played Quidditch.

oooo

A/N: As the Draco-adapted Muggle saying goes, "It ain't over until the hot blonde wizard wins". Heh heh…More to come!


End file.
